


Remembering Hank

by connorssock



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 70+ years after the game end, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Connor Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: After everything he'd lived through, Connor has a decision to make about his memories. He returns to the bench he and Hank had spent so much time at to choose what he will do.





	Remembering Hank

The bench had survived the years and Connor sat on it to stare out over the harbour. He’d been there so many times before, rewriting his memories. It’s been a while now but he didn’t look any different than the first time he’d been there with Hank on that dark, snowy night.

Connor could remember it. Hank had sat on the bench, his back to him. Connor walked up and stood next to him, admired the glowing lights that reflected off the water. So much had changed since then and yet some things were still just the same.

The water still reflected the lights, twinkled like the lights Hank had put up on the Christmas tree. Connor could remember that, one of the many Christmases they’d shared. It had all been so long ago. But Hank had stood in that strange jumper of his, facing the tree and grumbling about the lights getting in a tangle. Connor had wrapped his arms around him from behind, stood on tiptoes to peer over his shoulder and helped undo the knots in the wires.

Other memories of Hank floated through Connor’s mind. Walking Sumo, the dog had grown old and arthritic but still got so excited when his leash came out. They never could go far. Connor had stopped to pick up startlingly bright leaf from the ground and had glanced up. Sumo had stopped to look back and see where he’d got to while Hank leaned over him to give the dog a quick pat. Connor wished he could remember what had happened to the leaf after that. It had probably been left to float in the wind as they watched it drift away.

The leaves around Connor’s feet rustle and he smiles at them. Despite all the years, the seasons followed a predictable pattern he’d grown used to and fond of. It was autumn again. He’d lived through many of those. Some were more pleasant than others.

One of the autumns, the trees were just starting to change colour and lose their leaves, Hank had gotten sick. He’d laid in bed, on his side and facing away from the door. No matter what Connor had tried, the man refused his help, ordered Connor to leave him. It was so long ago, Connor couldn’t remember what had been wrong with Hank. He didn’t really want to remember it anyway.

Sickness was a singularly human condition. Androids were immune to colds, stomach upsets, organ failure and cancer. A biocomponents began to wear out and they simply replaced them. Connor was on his fourth thirium pump but none of them ever felt quite as warm as the first one had been when Hank traced its outline late at nights. Always in the dark and Connor had taken to sleeping on his side so the pillow would blot out the light from his LED. He remembered the feel of Hank’s fingers on his chest but all those memories were of the dark, barely lit bedroom. Connor wished he could see Hank once more.

Because while androids didn’t get sick, their memory stores were still limited. The older models still around had started to wipe their older memories. Some claimed it was easier to live on when you forgot all you had lost. Those who didn’t wipe their memories lost them. Each day they were a little more fragmented, a little more lost. Connor thought back to Hank. He could still feel his lips pressed against his, knew the shape of their hands linked together. The scent of his soap as it lingered on his skin and the sound of his gruff laugh.

Connor watched the water in front of him and thought of Hank. He knew he had blue eyes; there were crow feet at the corners whenever he smiled. Memories of walking into the kitchen while Hank was washing up at the sink flooded Connor’s mind. He knew he’d greeted Hank who put the utensils to the side and turned to greet him. But each time he turned, his face was blank. Connor couldn’t remember him anymore. Of all the memories to degrade, Hank’s face had been the one to go first. Each memory Connor had tried to access, there was nothing there. The worst thing was, it wasn’t a sudden thing but he’d refused to acknowledge that there was anything wrong with his memories of Hank. Not when Hank’s eyes had changed to grey then thirium blue or any shade of blue Connor had seen that day. Or even when the gap in Hank’s teeth had disappeared, followed by the definition of each tooth, blending into a smooth, terrifying white edge. Bit by bit, each wrinkle smoothed out, his skin became a uniform colour with a small rosy patch on each cheek before those faded too.

Connor used to go to sleep each night while replaying a memory of Hank. It’s all he’d had of the man for the last sixty years. Losing him once had been awful, but now he was losing him again.

The bench was a place Connor went to think and make decisions when things were tough. He was facing his most difficult choice yet. The memories were degrading, fading, he was too scared to access ones where the place Hank’s face should be were blank pixels. But he didn’t want to let go just yet. He’d treasured Hank for so long, owed the man so much. To wipe him from his memories seemed like a crime. Yet, to not wipe him, to watch him slowly fade from existence was a degrading betrayal. Connor was the last person to truly remember him, he owed Hank the dignity.

Slowly, Connor leaned forward on the bench, rested his face against his hands for a moment. His decision had to be made, he wouldn’t move from Hank’s bench until he had chosen the way forward. After a moment he sat up straight and stood from the bench with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> After determinedly saying I won't do anything sad, this happened. It was meant to be part of a joint project but the ideas for it have changed so I ended up with a story to spare.


End file.
